Camping, round two
Perhaps I am a slow learner. I prefer to think of it as not giving up easily. In either case. I decided that the last attempt at camping was a fluke. So I gave it another try. It was a hot evening, and I headed out thinking thiat I would drove to some peak and camp out. Instead, on a whim, I drove to Fontana Lake in 85 degree weather and decided to stay at Cab;e Cove in the US Forest Service Campsite.
The campground is quite lovely, if a little spartan. The only amenities were working toilets...and a tap for water. The campsites were spacious and shady, so I decided this was as good a place as any. I set up my site.
If you have never seen a 210 pound woman working in 80 degree heat set up a tent, I can assure you, it's not pretty. I sweated...not misted, or glowed, but sweated for roughly 45 minutes as I gathered supplies, set up the tent, and made the bed. By the end of the time, I was overheated, dehydrated, and a little irritable. I decided to drive to Fontana village for more water, breakfast foods, and some ice.
When I returned from the outing, I noticed the Sheriff's car sitting opposite my camp site. I blankly assumed they were gathering money for campsites (remember...overheated). When he came over to my site, I greeted him enthusiastically and offered my registration. He smiled and explained that no, he was not checking campsites, he was arresting the camp host. Apparently our 60 year old host was running around his camp site naked, periodically reaching down to relieve his pent up frustrations in a rather public way. For an hour. In front of children, and eventually, the sheriff's deputy.
I get that there are bears in the forest. I can tolerate gasping heat while I try to set up camp. The possibility that our local pervert might get released and return to terrorize the camp site was a bit much. But I was even willing to deal with that (hello...pepper spray and a car alarm, thank you). But at the very moment when the sheriff's car drove off, the forecasted clear skies suddenly grew dark and ominous. That was my final straw. Heat, wildlife of all varieties, and crazies aside, I needed no further omen to convince me this was not the time to try camping. I threw everything back in the car and drove the 40 minutes home to sleep in air conditioned comfort.
Lessons learned.
I need a bigger tent; crawling around on the ground is no country for old women.
I need cooler temperatures and more water. Self explanatory.
I decided a cot would be a good idea. It's actually more comfortable than my bed at home.
I need to camp where the host is a little better monitored, and where phone contact is not 5 miles away.
I am not giving up on camping completely, but I think there are better, more comfortable ways to commune with mother nature. Once I have them figured out, then I will probably abandon tent camping and go to another obsession. Like kayaking. Or smoke jumping.
The campground is quite lovely, if a little spartan. The only amenities were working toilets...and a tap for water. The campsites were spacious and shady, so I decided this was as good a place as any. I set up my site.
If you have never seen a 210 pound woman working in 80 degree heat set up a tent, I can assure you, it's not pretty. I sweated...not misted, or glowed, but sweated for roughly 45 minutes as I gathered supplies, set up the tent, and made the bed. By the end of the time, I was overheated, dehydrated, and a little irritable. I decided to drive to Fontana village for more water, breakfast foods, and some ice.
When I returned from the outing, I noticed the Sheriff's car sitting opposite my camp site. I blankly assumed they were gathering money for campsites (remember...overheated). When he came over to my site, I greeted him enthusiastically and offered my registration. He smiled and explained that no, he was not checking campsites, he was arresting the camp host. Apparently our 60 year old host was running around his camp site naked, periodically reaching down to relieve his pent up frustrations in a rather public way. For an hour. In front of children, and eventually, the sheriff's deputy.
I get that there are bears in the forest. I can tolerate gasping heat while I try to set up camp. The possibility that our local pervert might get released and return to terrorize the camp site was a bit much. But I was even willing to deal with that (hello...pepper spray and a car alarm, thank you). But at the very moment when the sheriff's car drove off, the forecasted clear skies suddenly grew dark and ominous. That was my final straw. Heat, wildlife of all varieties, and crazies aside, I needed no further omen to convince me this was not the time to try camping. I threw everything back in the car and drove the 40 minutes home to sleep in air conditioned comfort.
Lessons learned.
I need a bigger tent; crawling around on the ground is no country for old women.
I need cooler temperatures and more water. Self explanatory.
I decided a cot would be a good idea. It's actually more comfortable than my bed at home.
I need to camp where the host is a little better monitored, and where phone contact is not 5 miles away.
I am not giving up on camping completely, but I think there are better, more comfortable ways to commune with mother nature. Once I have them figured out, then I will probably abandon tent camping and go to another obsession. Like kayaking. Or smoke jumping.
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